


treat me soft (touch me cruel)

by rarepairenabler



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, M/M, MMA Fighters AU, Pillow Talk, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Wrestling Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 14:37:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14138097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarepairenabler/pseuds/rarepairenabler
Summary: “You really gonna let me win?” Kyoutani demands, his weight draping over Iwaizumi’s back. “Just like that?” Frustration rolls off of him in waves. More than once, okay maybe a lot of times, he’s imagined getting the upper hand, but not likethis.There’s no victory in it if it’s not a fair fight. Grunting, Kyoutani nips at Iwaizumi’s ear, body pinning Iwaizumi’s against the mattress and Iwaizumiletshim. “Maybe you’re gettin’ old.”





	treat me soft (touch me cruel)

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a collab but I don't know if that's still happening and with all my unfinished fics, and the zines, and the fic exchanges, I just wanted to get something out there for you guys, so here's this! 
> 
> I also just found out that PWP without porn is a tag that exists. _Wild._

“K-Kyou—” Iwaizumi groans. He clutches at the sheets, hips bucking against the mattress as Kyoutani trail of bruising kisses along Iwaizumi’s bare shoulder.

“You really gonna let me win?” Kyoutani demands, his weight draping over Iwaizumi’s back. “Just like that?” Frustration rolls off of him in waves. More than once, okay maybe a lot of times, he’s imagined getting the upper hand, but not like _this._ There’s no victory in it if it’s not a fair fight. Grunting, Kyoutani nips at Iwaizumi’s ear, body pinning Iwaizumi’s against the mattress and Iwaizumi _lets_ him. “Maybe you’re gettin’ old.”

“Oh?” On a cue, Iwaizumi flips them before Kyoutani can react.

Kyoutani lands on his back with an _oof._ He slowly lifts his gaze, taking in Iwaizumi’s thick thighs straddling Kyoutani’s waist, bare torso speckled with purplish bruises and crescents of teeth marks, strong arms caging Kyoutani in.

Iwaizumi’s brows raise, his smile turning smug. _Fuck._ Kyoutani swallows against the sudden dryness in his throat. “You were saying?” Iwaizumi teases, his eyes glinting. “Something about me getting too old?”

_This._ This is what Kyoutani was waiting for. Pulse racing, Kyoutani fists his hands in Iwaizumi’s short hair, Kyoutani yanks him down into a biting kiss. It’s impossibly easy to lose himself to the heat of it, to get drunk on how good Iwaizumi’s body feels pressed against his. There’s no grace to this kiss—it’s all teeth, rough and starved and feverish, the two of them clinging to each other. Kyoutani lets out a shaky breath when fingers brush against the splay of his ribs. The noise turns guttural when Iwaizumi sucks his lower lip between his teeth.

“Fuck, Iwaizumi, _c’mon,”_ Kyoutani snarls.

Iwaizumi chuckles and kisses the underside of Kyoutani’s jaw. “Language.”

“Fuck you,” retorts Kyoutani. Dipping down, he lets his lips trace a line from the jut of Iwaizumi’s hip, along the muscular planes of his stomach, before sealing his mouth around the bud of Iwaizumi’s nipple.

With a jolt, Iwaizumi gasps and arches his back. His dark lashes flutter against his cheeks, his lips pursing to repress another moan when Kyoutani slips his hand past the band of Iwaizumi’s boxers.

Kyoutani curls his hand around Iwaizumi’s dick and blindly reaches for the lube with the other. “I wanna _hear_ you.” 

For a moment, Kyoutani drinks it all in—reveling in the heavy rise and fall of Iwaizumi’s chest, the choked off grunts falling from Iwaizumi’s lips, the way his face contorts when he strokes his thumb over the slit of Iwaizumi’s dick. A restless, electric energy thrums underneath his skin. Kyoutani’s resolve snaps; he surges forward, splays his free hand on Iwaizumi’s chest and shoves him back down against the creaking mattress.

Iwaizumi grunts in surprise, a wry smile twisting his lips. He hooks his legs around the small of Kyoutani’s back, hands bracing on Kyoutani’s broad shoulders, no doubt preparing to push back, but Kyoutani catches his wrists and pins them at his side.

With a grin, Iwaizumi breaks free from Kyoutani’s hold. Iwaizumi’s hands and lips are suddenly _everywhere_ , touch unraveling Kyoutani and keeping him anchored at the same time. The two of them pushing at each other, grappling for dominance until they’re both panting and Kyoutani’s straddling Iwaizumi’s waist, callused hands eagerly roving over Kyoutani’s bare chest, Iwaizumi’s hardness pressing against his thigh, hands clasping around Iwaizumi’s throat. Their eyes lock. Iwaizumi’s pulse leaps beneath the callused pad of Kyoutani’s thumb.

The silence is shattered by a breathless laugh. Iwaizumi lips drag along the line of Kyoutani’s jaw, their noses brushing. “You, _hah_ —you’re gettin’ good at this.” 

Kyoutani keens, the words sending a bolt of pleasure down his spine. In answer, he shifts forward and uses his knees to splay Iwaizumi’s thighs apart as he slicks his fingers. He hooks his fingers in the band of Iwaizumi’s grapple shorts, tugging them down until the fabric is trapped around Iwaizumi’s ankles. He slides his hand between them, palms surging along trail of markings he’d sucked and nipped across the span of Iwaizumi’s thighs until his fingers reach the slope of Iwaizumi’s ass. As he circles his thumb along Iwaizumi’s entrance, he tries and fails not to think about how many times he’s dreamt of this moment while spreading himself open on his own fingers, his rival’s name on his lips each time he has came. 

Iwaizumi inhales sharply and Kyoutani chooses that moment to smoothly press a finger forward, his other hand curling around Iwaizumi’s cock. Eyes locked on the heavy rise and fall of Iwaizumi’s chest, he pumps his fist in a clumsy rhythm. When he’s sure Iwaizumi’s ready for it, he adds a second digit alongside the first, each crook of his wrist causing Iwaizumi’s hips to hitch, every wrecked noise sending another wave of desperate heat furling through Kyoutani. 

As he works both hands in tandem, Kyoutani catches himself idly wondering what it would feel like if Iwaizumi was the one spreading _him_ open, fingerless gloves grazing against Kyoutani’s skin. Imagines Iwaizumi hauling him up, Kyoutani wrapping him his legs around Iwaizumi’s waist, the chain link wall of the fighting cage rattling as Iwaizumi fucks him. 

Fingers pluck at the band of Kyoutani’s boxers. “You’re not really planning on keeping these on, are you?” Iwaizumi asks, one brow raised. 

Kyoutani shivers at the memory of last time, when Iwaizumi had mouthed at him through his boxers until he was tenting against the fabric and leaking precome. He considers pausing his ministrations but he doesn’t want those punched-out noises Iwaizumi’s making to ever stop so instead he lifts his gaze in a glower and mumbles, “M’busy.” 

“Here, let me then.” 

Kyoutani doesn’t answer, just tilts his hips forward, his fingers withdrawing, skin warm where Iwaizumi’s gripping his waist. He lifts one knee off the mattress and then the other as Iwaizumi tugs his boxers down and then tosses them onto the floor. Heat rises to his cheeks when Iwaizumi hungry gaze rakes over his bare chest. He’s fully aware of how damn stupid it is, getting flustered over that but even after everything they’ve done together, all it takes is a freakin’ look from Iwaizumi to make him feel vulnerable.

Kyoutani shakes the thought from his head. He steadies himself with a shaky breath before sealing his lips around the head of Iwaizumi’s cock. 

Truth be told, he’s doesn’t believe fuckin’ teasing or drawing things out—Kyoutani hollows his cheeks and sinks all the way down on Iwaizumi’s cock.

“Kyou--fuck.” Hands grip Kyoutani’s head, instinctively guiding him forward. “Hey...careful, yeah? Don’t hurt yourself,” Iwaizumi softly warns, his voice strained. By now, at least, he knows that teasingly reminding Kyoutani “ _no teeth_ ” is a surefire way to prompt the insolent graze of teeth. 

Kyoutani’s gaze turns defiant as he stretches his already sore jaw and takes another inch, his face buried against Iwaizumi’s hip. A moment later he winces and pulls off with a cough.

Iwaizumi’s smile is sympathetic. “C’mere.” He sinks his fingers in Kyoutani’s shaved hair and traces soothing circles against the nape of Kyoutani’s neck.

Kyoutani freezes under Iwaizumi’s tender ministrations. His body trembles with how damn pathetically touch-starved he is. He clears his throat and lets Iwaizumi guide him back down and then tries again. This time he’s _slightly_ more careful. Kyoutani goes slower the time, tongue swirling, lips pursing as he bobs his head with the kind of fervent determination that he usually reserves for his matches.

“That’s— _yeah_ , just like that,” Iwaizumi encourages. His thighs quake, his mouth opening on a moan and hands clenching against Kyoutani’s skull. “So good for me.”

Kyoutani makes a noise from the back of his throat that sounds _nothing_ like a whimper. Fuck. Half afraid that he’ll come just from the praise alone, without even being touched, he reaches a hand down and grips himself. He uses his lips, his tongue, his hands, and even the graze of teeth to get Iwaizumi off, each groan or buck of Iwaizumi’s hips egging Kyoutani on. It’s admittedly sloppy, a string of saliva clinging to Kyoutani’s lips each time he pulls back for air, but Iwaizumi never complains.

An aching heat courses through Kyoutani, pooling low in his groin when Iwaizumi caresses Kyoutani’s swollen lips with his thumb. “ _Ah_ , I’m gonna…”

Opting to ignore Iwaizumi’s slurred warning, Kyoutani’s enthusiastic efforts double. He narrows his eyes in determination and doesn’t pull off when he feels Iwaizumi seize through his orgasm. Nails claw at Kyoutani’s shoulders and heels dig against his back until Iwaizumi turns limp beneath him. “Kentarou,” he murmurs, voice reverent. 

It’s embarrassing as hell that _that’s_ what makes Kyoutani come. His eyes squeeze shut and he shudders through it, his legs turning to jelly beneath him as he pulls off with a laboured breath. 

Iwaizumi snorts.

“ _What?_ ” Kyoutani snaps, suddenly defensive.

“Somehow you still look all pissed off, even when you’re coming,” teases Iwaizumi. His gaze is soft and reverent and Kyoutani doesn’t know what to do with that or the achy feeling in his chest. Before Kyoutani can answer, Iwaizumi’s arms wrap around him. He waggles his thick brows. “Our big match is comin’ up soon, huh?”

Kyoutani scowls, and remembers all the headlines: _Newcomer Fights Reigning MML Lightweight Champion in the National Tournament._ It’s more than a week away, but Kyoutani can’t think about it without his stomach tangling in knots. He exhales an unsteady breath and twines their hands together. “You better not be fuckin’ planning on takin’ it easy on me.”

Iwaizumi smirks. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I did have this beta'd and then I made...a bunch of changes so I take full responsibility for any errors there might be. 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://rarepairenabler.tumblr.com/) l [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ambyguity_)


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